


Paid in Blood and Abandonment

by loosingletters



Series: that which we call home (and fall for) [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Obi-Wan Kenobi, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Beta Darth Maul, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Gaslighting, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Sith Obi-Wan Kenobi, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:46:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28573983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/pseuds/loosingletters
Summary: Kidnapped on his transport to Bandomeer, Obi-Wan Kenobi at thirteen was hurt, desperate and slowly fading into the darkness. Darth Sidious was keen to turn him into another apprentince and is not about to waste precious time with careful manipulations. He wanted this childbroken.(Obi-Wan Kenobi doesn't stay a Jedi for long.)
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Darth Maul
Series: that which we call home (and fall for) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2047820
Comments: 13
Kudos: 82





	Paid in Blood and Abandonment

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Obi-Wan's terrible childhood!  
> Please mind the tags! Enjoy!

Obi-Wan woke up with tears in his eyes. It was a strange sensation, feeling how sticky his lashes were. He had thought that he had lost his ability to cry weeks ago. It was just too exhausting with his body constantly on edge, trying to heal him. Obi-Wan’s limbs were so heavy already, he didn’t have the energy to spare for something as useless as crying.

Nobody would pity him here. Another beating was the only thing this display of emotion earned him and Obi-Wan was sick of getting hurt again and again.

He didn’t dare linger on these negative thoughts threatening to terrorize him and drag him down to the depths of despair. It was difficult to focus on the light in a place such as this, but Obi-Wan was determined to when everyone else was so keen whenever he was pushed towards the darkness.

Ironically, routine was the only thing keeping him sane.

He didn’t waste any time remaining in bed but instead made himself look presentable, picking up his dark robes. No breakfast had been pushed into his room, so Obi-Wan assumed that he wasn’t going to get any meal at all today. It wasn’t too unusual, but he was starting to feel the hunger gnawing at him, chipping away at his resolution. He had gotten a full meal yesterday, he could stand to go without anything today, but somehow the lack of food was bothering him today.

He had been feeling weird for the last couple of days. Just a bit off-balance, more uncomfortable than usual with his habitat. His clothes, whose colors had never stopped bothering him since he’d been forced to trade his soft and light robes for a uniform befitting of his new role, were rough on his skin, irritating him. When he tried to sleep with them, hoping his own scent would drown out that of the world surrounding him, he couldn’t find any peace or solace.

He was missing something so deep and intimate that _homesickness_ couldn’t possibly cover the intensity with which he longed for Coruscant.

Meditation didn’t come easily to him, but eventually, he fell into a trance. He knew better than to reach outwards; only lightning strikes lingered in that direction, and so he focused inwards. He hadn’t known how to fall into a healing trance when he had been captured, and the skill had come to him only slowly and subconsciously with not as great an effect as when a healer would teach him, but Obi-Wan was proud of this accomplishment.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he was shaken out of his meditation by a droid marching into his room.

“The Master demands your presence for training,” it told him, hollow optical units staring down at him.

Obi-Wan’s hands held tightly onto the sleeves of his robes as he followed the droid down the corridor.

His steps echoed in the dark halls. The complex had to be old and far underground as there was no light anywhere. If Obi-Wan could just glimpse outside, perhaps he could deduce where they were, but as it was, he had no option but to endure.

The droid led him into the training hall where his eyes immediately fell upon Maul. He hadn’t seen the Beta teenager in a few days and had been more than thankful for it. He didn’t know what he would do, recalling the state the other had left him in after their last training session.

The second person Obi-Wan registered was the dark shadow standing on the platform overseeing the hall. Automatically, Obi-Wan dropped to his knees. His new Master didn’t say anything about his immediate submission, but Obi-Wan could sense his sick satisfaction in the Force. It made Obi-Wan’s eyes sting. He didn’t want to cower in front of the Sith, his mortal enemy, but it wasn’t like he had much of a choice if he wanted to survive and not be tortured to insanity.

His Master didn’t have a single problem with torturing Obi-Wan or Maul. If anything, Obi-Wan was convinced that Sidious enjoyed to watch them squirm and bleed and every pain inflicted on one of them served additionally as a reminder for the other.

“My apprentices,” their Master rasped. “It has been a while. I wish to see how much you have advanced.”

Obi-Wan wanted to throw up.

No.

No, no, _no_.

The droid, which had brought him here, handed Obi-Wan a weapon he already knew well. It lay heavily in his hands, much more so than his own lightsaber would. The Sith Master hadn’t allowed Obi-Wan to carry his lightsaber but had given him this one. He expected Obi-Wan to fight just as well with this heartless weapon as he could with his own. Obi-Wan had no idea where Sidious kept his blade, but sometimes he imagined hearing his crystal cry out for him.

Though perhaps that was also just phantom pain.

Maul was allowed to keep his lightsaber on him at all times, something he had demonstrated outside of their scheduled training by pressing the red blade close to Obi-Wan’s neck until it had left a burn. The wound had healed since then, but the scar had stayed. Obi-Wan hoped it would fade someday, but even he knew that the chances of that were fairly slim.

But what was another mark to add to the collection?

The droid stepped away and Maul ignited his blade. Obi-Wan hurried to do the same, feeling clumsy when he couldn’t get a comfortable grip on the gray hilt.

Maul was lethal, way better trained than Obi-Wan, and never felt like he ought to hold back. He knew forms that Obi-Wan recognized as the seventh and was obviously building up to learning how to use Jar’Kai to be even more terrifying.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan still clung to Shii-Cho as if it were his safe harbor. He had started to pick up different blocks by necessity, feeling the heat of Maul’s lightsaber too often, but nothing that could be quite clearly shaped into an actual discipline. He didn’t want Maul to accidentally kill him, so he tried his best to anticipate his opponent’s moves and block them accordingly, but even Obi-Wan knew that he couldn’t continue on like this for much longer.

He tried to tell himself that it was still better than the training he could be receiving from their Master.

He had seen the aftermath of that on Maul’s body.

He didn’t want to be hurt like this.

“Begin.”

Their Master had barely finished speaking when Mau already rushed at Obi-Wan. He sidestepped the assault ineptly, the sudden movement making him dizzy. From there on, it was a rather one-sided fight, the kind that quickly frustrated Maul because he was neither allowed to kill Obi-Wan nor play with his food. Obi-Wan was not much of a challenge for him. One of their instruction droids could probably do a better job at entertaining him.

Maul kept bashing down on him, making Obi-Wan’s wrists turn into jelly and ache from having to defend against his intense strikes.

He didn’t give up; he roared and doubled his efforts at beating Obi-Wan into the ground. Their Master didn’t say a word, not even when Maul kicked him until his ribs cracked and his arms were covered in light burns, his tunic ruined.

After a particularly powerful strike, Obi-Wan fell to the ground, all his strength leaving him.

“Get up again.”

His head was hurting. He had spit blood on the ground and he was sure that Maul had broken his hand with his last move. He didn’t want to get up. He wanted to lay here, stay until he would be found and saved. He could just imagine a Jedi Knight bursting through the door, taking on the Sith and freeing Obi-Wan. Maybe it would be Qui-Gon Jinn, having seen that Obi-Wan was worth something still.

The Jedi would care if one of their own went missing, even if it had been on the transport to the Agricrops. 

Even if months had gone by already and they couldn’t possibly know where one failed Initiate ended up.

The Jedi were good, kind, a guiding light in the universe. Obi-Wan just had to believe that they wouldn’t leave anyone behind. He couldn’t give up on hope when he so desperately wanted to go home again.

He knew where he would end up if he forsook the light at the end of the tunnel. He couldn’t end up with such poison in his heart, the darkness that was never satisfied.

“I said, get up.”

His Master – and when had Obi-Wan started calling him that? Sidious was not his Master, he hadn’t offered his apprenticeship and Obi-Wan hadn’t accepted it. He hadn’t had a choice at all – snarled and, as if instinctually picking up his wishes, Obi-Wan was driven deeper into the ground with Maul kicking down on his ribs. Obi-Wan thought he could hear them crack, the sound incredibly loud in his ears.

“Do not make me repeat myself, boy. You won’t like it.”

No, Obi-Wan knew he wouldn’t. He still carried the scars from the last time.

On unsteady legs, he forced himself to stand, summoning his lightsaber to him again. It would be so much easier if he could wield his own blade. The crystal of this one screamed and begged for death.

Obi-Wan returned to a defensive stance, hoping that this time he could bear Maul’s assault a little longer. The Sith apprentice didn’t hesitate long enough for Obi-Wan to gather his last defenses. He threw himself at Obi-Wan, using his superior height and weight to his advantage. Obi-Wan had no chance of actually winning against him. The best he could hope for was attempting to minimize the damage to himself.

He didn’t know for how long Sidious let Maul torment him.

He had lost sense of time long ago. The underground prison complex didn’t allow for such little balm on his soul, though the rhythmic beat of Maul’s strikes reminded him of a chronometer. All he could do was wait for it to be over and try not to give his enemies the satisfaction of a scream.

He wouldn’t call himself suicidal, but he could end it if he wanted to.

_(Sometimes he did.)_

There were enough opportunities. It was almost ridiculous how Sidious went to such great lengths to keep Obi-Wan confined while taking no precautions against Obi-Wan hurting himself. If he wanted, he could just turn his lightsaber inwards now, impale himself on the blade and return to the Force.

But Obi-Wan was too much of a coward, too afraid of dying here alone.

Too _angry_ to let this be his end.

He wouldn’t have been a Jedi Knight, but he could have done good on Bandomeer. He could have had a purpose, a life, a _home,_ but instead, he was nothing more than another punching bag, an apprentice that his new Master didn’t even need.

And Obi-Wan wanted to be needed more than anything else.

With a burst of revolt he didn’t even expect from himself, Obi-Wan screamed, anger flaring up and, when Maul aimed to cut his side, he rolled out of his way and used his blade to burn his opponent’s side.

Maul, not having foreseen the attack, howled more in surprise than actual pain. Their lightsabers were not high-powered enough to leave injuries worse than their Master could on them. While Obi-Wan didn’t think he could ever become apathetic to the pain, he certainly could get used to it.

Maul’s expression turned murderous, but before he could attack Obi-Wan again, Sidious motioned for him to stop, curiously observing Obi-Wan.

“So you do know how to fight,” he said, then frowned. “Ah. Presenting now, are we? I had wondered about it. You are the right age by now.”

Obi-Wan stared at him in confusion. “What?”

The lightning didn’t come as a surprise, but it left him convulsing on the ground anyway. Obi-Wan should know better than to speak out of tune. Hadn’t he learned that lesson already?

“That will be it for the day. Maul, bring the boy back to his room.”

_Obi-Wan_. His name was Obi-Wan Kenobi. Not boy, child, or apprentice. He had a _name_ and it belonged to him and no one else.

“He will remain there for however long his rut lasts. You are in charge of ensuring he does not starve. No bacta for now.”

And then their Master vanished. The tension in Maul’s shoulders lessened ever so slightly as he roughly grabbed Obi-Wan and dragged him across the floor. This wasn’t anything new either. The two of them were often left to their own devices with only their droid sitters watching them when Sidious was busy. Obi-Wan didn’t know why Sidious forced Maul to ensure Obi-Wan didn’t die on him. Maybe he just wanted to make Maul hate him a little more by presenting Obi-Wan as an inconvenience or soothe some of his stunted Beta instincts that demanded he took care of a pack. Obi-Wan had attempted to get information out of Maul by outright asking him as well as trying to manipulate him, but the older teenager had either lashed out or stayed silent.

“What’s going on?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure how understandable he actually was. His cheek was starting to swell, making it difficult to talk. Now that he wasn’t in immediate danger anymore, the adrenaline was wearing off and his injuries began to plague him.

Maul didn’t reply, but Obi-Wan was too exhausted and defeated to feel like starting another fight. Instead, he tried to gain whatever comfort he could get from Maul’s rough hold on him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been touched gently, that someone had given him a hug. Maul, with his claws and intent to hurt him, certainly didn’t treat him kindly either, but it was better than nothing.

They weren’t allies, but as long as Sidious wasn’t there, they weren’t quite enemies either.

When they reached Obi-Wan’s cell, Mal tossed the door open and threw him inside. Obi-Wan landed on the ground, twisting his ankle even more.

“Don’t expect any help, little Alpha,” Maul said, then closed the door behind him, casting Obi-Wan in darkness.

Little Alpha— _oh_.

Obi-Wan supposed that would explain how strange he had been feeling lately. The thought of presentation sent another wave of homesickness through him. Back in the temple, he’d be comfortable, _safe_. He’d get to make himself a proper nest of his own instead of sleeping in the larger ones of the crèche. Maybe invite one or two younglings to fuss over.

Here he had nothing.

It would be a miserable week.

He sighed so he wouldn’t burst into tears and forced himself to look through the med-package he had in his room, eternally thankful he had used it sparingly, stretching the bandages and bacta patches. He tried to fix his injuries the best he could and, once he was done, meditated until he was exhausted enough to fall into a dreamless sleep.

When he woke up again, he found that his bandages had been redone and one miserably dark coat had been added to Obi-Wan’s sad collection of items for his nest.

Maul wasn’t one of his friends and they were by no means a pack. If Obi-Wan had to cast him in a role in a play, it would be that of his tormentor, endlessly following their Master’s orders to endear himself to him and spare himself the cruelties Obi-Wan was subjected too.

It was easy to forget that Maul got hurt as well when Obi-Wan could barely breathe through his own pain. Maybe when the Beta went through his own flushes, Obi-Wan could ensure not to cause too much trouble, as a small thank-you for the robe. He pressed the dark robe to his face, imaging that it didn’t smell of ozone and blood but of the sweet flowers of the temple.

Then he returned to sleep, his nightmares welcoming him with open arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This will probably be 3 to 4 chapters of snapchats of Obi-Wan's way to Sith-hood. And yeah, Maul is 2 years older than Obi-Wan here, it just fit better.
> 
> About ABO in this AU in general:  
> While I hinted at it in Anakin's POV, generally speaking im de-sexualizing a lot of it. Especially until they are actually adults, heat/ruts are more like "you feel miserable for a week and want a hug".
> 
> Now, side not about Betas in this AU - and shout out to the obikin server for helping me here:  
> It always bothered me that Betas had nothing like heat/rut. So what we came up with was _flush_. Essentially for a week they need everything to be organized, know where the rest of the pack is, hyperfixiate and experience constant, horrible, anxiety. They usually don't build nests themselves but share with other members of their pack who do.
> 
> So, Maul, growing up without a pack at all, is just,,, miserable 24/7.
> 
> That being said, I'd love to hear what you think :D


End file.
